


Green Cells

by ScumdogSnev



Category: Evil Dead - All Media Types, Re-Animator (Movies)
Genre: Blood Sharing, Broken Bones, Car Accidents, Flashbacks, M/M, Partners to Lovers, Rebirth, Temporary Character Death, Whump, don't typically do many tags but wanted to test the waters, think that's about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2019-11-16 08:20:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18090782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScumdogSnev/pseuds/ScumdogSnev
Summary: As Ash's life slips away and resources are low after an ambush, an injured Herbert must take drastic measures to save him; measures that'll force him to further sacrifice himself in more ways than physical.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing anything for either of these series. I watched Re-Animator about a week or two ago on Shudder and I fucking loved it. It's the movie I never knew I needed.
> 
> Haven't gotten around to watching the sequels nor the Evil Dead trilogy (would have at least gotten to watch ED2 if Shudder hadn't taken down the damn thing), but I'm getting there and I have a general idea of what happens in them. Anyway, I think Ash and Herbert make for a really interesting duo of partners/frenemies/lovers; I was inspired to write this from a specific panel of that Prophecy crossover comic that they're in.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this.

Ash Williams can take a lot of damage; anyone he’s ever spared can tell you that. He’ll take what you give him and flip it back on you tenfold, thanks to a foolproof combination of courage, ingenuity and good old human willpower. As for those who have fought alongside him, there aren’t that many to begin with. Those who fit the bill tend to get the hell out of Dodge as soon as their mutual deed with him is done.

See, Ash usually elicits two types of reactions from people: fear and pity. Creatures that used to be human know to not fuck with a wild eyed, grinning barbarian with a functional chainsaw for a prosthetic. Unfortunately for Ash, ordinary humans who aren’t familiar with his battles usually fall in the latter category. There's not much to envy about that egotistical college dropout from S-Mart. The guy who may or may not be responsible for the gruesome deaths of the people he had vacationed with a few years back. The guy who no self-respecting woman, let alone any person capable of basic cognitive processes would ever want to make extended eye contact with. Yeah, that guy.

It’s not like Ash doesn’t know any of this; he’s his harshest critic, after all. This puts him in the best position to ask himself just how the fuck he ended up in the countryside, laying on his back as he’s bleeding from a large bite mark on his chest. He tries to look up so he can see how his partner’s holding up. As he feels himself black out for good, he wonders why this moment in particular is the one that did him in and how he even ended up with someone to call his partner.

* * *

A bespectacled man of relatively short stature is panting as he’s on his knees, supporting himself with the corpse of the beast that he just finished off. He remembers to be grateful for Ash’s efforts towards weakening it as he tries to get up. Looking at the empty syringe in his hands, he realizes that he's survived this encounter knowing less about his most valued possession than before.

This man is Herbert West, a former student of Miskatonic University’s medical school in Arkham, Massachusetts. A former student not by graduation, but by expulsion. The reason for the latter is solely because of what he injected that creature with: a green, glowing liquid that he christens _reagent._

One thing that helped Herbert and Ash connect is the fact that they’re both outcasts. Ash’s status as such isn’t necessarily his fault, but Herbert being a scourge to society is almost certainly self-induced. Doesn’t help that he’s a frigid and arrogant son of a bitch, neither. Whereas scientists are expected to be passionate about their work, he was and continues to be obsessed by his own: the reanimation of deceased animals, mainly humans. What started as a desire to overcome the brain’s temporal limitations devolved into an interest that further blurs the line between good and bad intentions, especially when his experiments went from rebirth to flat out birth.

After catching his breath, Herbert takes a closer look at what he and Ash killed. A large pitch black chimera that looks like a cross between a nude tree and four or five too many horses. Too many mouths and branches, as well. Eyeing the green goo dribbling from the mouth facing his feet, the scientist ponders whether the reagent mixed badly with its blood or if the creature’s secretion is some form of congealed reagent that couldn't take the overdose.

A shiver goes down his spine when he sees the shallow indentations lining its bleeding gums. Herbert swears under his breath as he accepts that he has to leave whatever the hell that is behind. Ash has to be dead by now and he needs to intervene fast before he’s beyond salvation. He grunts as he hobbles towards him, certain that he must have broken some of the bones in his legs during the battle.

Herbert’s body buckles on Ash’s corpse with a strangled scream. He hacks up some blood and spits it on some nearby grass. Summoning all the strength in his surprisingly able body, he clutches his companion’s clothes and carries him up with himself before settling him on his back. The physical pressure is excruciating, but this has to be done. Swallowing his pride, Herbert begins to crawl as rapidly as he can afford to across the open field, far away from the woods they were near.

The clock is ticking. Time doesn’t care how much of an ass of yourself you make. Sooner or later, it’ll end your life for good, no matter what you do. As usual, Herbert takes this fact of life as a challenge. He’ll be goddamned if he lets Ash die on his watch.


	2. Chapter 2

Herbert’s blind groping of the dimly-lit ground before him not only lands him with scrapes on his limbs, but also some sort of grotto repurposed as a temple. His knees fail him as soon as he gets there, causing him and Ash to fall to the cold ground. Herbert further injures himself on a nearby rock, prompting him to hiss in a manner that reminds him of the sounds Rufus made when he reanimated him.

Reanimated him. Reanimation. The smell of a nearby corpse well on its way to decomposition.

“Ashley!”

Herbert’s effortful gasp leads to a groan as he sets his partner face up to the stone ceiling. He doesn’t know how much time has passed since his death and now. He hates himself for this to the point that he wishes he’d taken the bite instead of Ash. His heart pounds in his ears as he recalls that he’s almost completely out of reagent. The escalating stress makes him want to yell at the half moon looming above them, but he has to save his energy if he wants even the slimmest chance to reanimate Ash.

The scientist grabs his vial from one of his jacket pockets; the fresh blood on the bottle is undeniably more abundant than the reagent inside of it. His racing thoughts are halted when he remembers that he’s injected himself with the substance more often than his body should be able to take. By now, reagent has to be an inextricable part of his very being in more ways than one.

Unwilling to stall any longer, Herbert forgoes basic procedure and bites the blade of his hand. A shaky hand points a clean syringe towards the new wound, extricating as much blood as the instrument can take. He feels himself inching towards Ash and injecting the substance in the man’s chest. Before he knows it, he collapses on his body once more.

* * *

If you had asked Ash about his views on the afterlife before the cabin incident, he’d have most likely shrugged and moved on with his day. Death wasn’t really something he thought about back then; having fun and not failing his courses took priority in his life. Ever since that moment, however, he thought about it more and more, the idea of it always threatening to push him into the mother of all mental breakdowns. Even after his harrowing experiences, he still couldn’t come up with an idea of what truly lies for the body and mind after death.

Ash starts to perceive himself floating in a crimson void, its hue slowly increasing. He's confused as to whether this is him dying or coming back to life, but is more worried about what might happen next. If he comes back as a Deadite, he’ll have to remember to saw off his own neck with Herbert’s help as soon as he awakens.

There he goes again. Ash was thinking of him as he was dying and as he expected, he’s thinking of him again postmortem. He hasn’t known him for long, but feels like he has for the longest time. They had started off on the wrong foot, with Herbert’s insistence on taking the Necronomicon from him royally pissing him off. If it weren’t for the fact that they have so many enemies in common, Ash would have most likely given Herbert a buckshot to the brain instead. But in all honesty, he wouldn’t have. It would have been a stretch for him to kill a living human being.

In any case, there was something fascinating about this little brainiac with a humongous ego and unparalleled determination. He tempted Ash, made him want to get under his skin and see how he ticks. Ash had not only spared him because he didn’t have it in him to take an ordinary human’s life, but had also wanted to see what he would say or do next. He had ended up betting on the right horse, because this choice had landed him a partner who worked in near perfect tandem with him.

For all the time they spent bickering in peace, the odd couple was a force to be reckoned with when their backs were against the wall. Ash’s brawn, Herbert’s brain and their mastery of necromancy meant that almost nothing could stand in their way. Hell, they even managed to strike fear into the heart of the very personification of pain itself before summoning revenge incarnate to aid them. Ash could ask himself just how he wound up spending a Thursday afternoon fighting Pinhead alongside Herbert and _motherfucking Pumpkinhead_ , but he witnessed strange shit like that every other week, anyway.

In spite of their terrifyingly great power as a team, Ash began to cherish furthermore the moments he spent with Herbert due to a couple of close calls in combat. Their free time started to accommodate moments in which they taught each other everything they knew about staying sharp and safe; they had effectively begun to form a deeper bond over their determination to survive. On Ash's end, this evolved into the desire to see Herbert happy and especially less sinister. He hoped that Herbert felt the same way towards him, but he can't do anything about it anymore. 

Ash had fucked up with his friends, his sister and his girlfriend; he never wanted to lose anyone dear to him again, especially in the usual gruesome manner. There's no way that Herbert can take on more of those tree beasts alone without meeting the same fate as him. It makes Ash want to escape the void so he can protect him and not have to imagine his tender, pale flesh torn apart by starving monsters. He needed to be by Herbert's side, wanted that more than anything else, but it was too late.

Spiritual torment aside, what’s surprising to him about this strange experience is that he hasn’t actually visualized any of the painful events he’d been through prior to meeting Herbert. No screams or blood; just some embarrassing childhood memories and recollections of Ted having to serve some of the shittiest customers he’s ever seen. Those and one memory that he’s pretty sure isn’t his.


	3. Chapter 3

From the white room, the equipment in it and the downright shitty bed to his left, Ash deduces that this place is a hospital room. He turns his attention to that very bed to see who it is. Ash is met with the thousand yard stare of a heavily bandaged boy hooked up to an IV drip. Remembering that this isn’t immediately real, Ash crouches down to get a better look at him.

The child’s wide brown eyes look up at the ceiling, as if he’s trying to distract himself or looking for an answer to a deeper question in his head. He looks like he has been crying for most of the day or even longer.

“How is he?”

Ash notices the conversation just outside of the room. Despite being far away from the door, he can still clearly hear the words.

“Physically, he’s hanging in there. Psychologically, he doesn’t seem to be doing as well.”

“Obviously. Being one of the only survivors of a bus crash will do that to you. Jesus, he just barely turned eleven, too. I can’t imagine how badly the sight of all of those mangled people--”

“We’d recommend that you help him seek therapy and keep an open mind to anything strange he might say. It could take months for him to cope with what’s happened.”

Ash hears a sigh, followed by an awkward silence.

“To be honest with you, we fear that Herbert might not survive by the end of the week.”

The ensuing yell from outside of the room and the brief rustle of the bed accompany Ash’s shock. His confusion turns into sorrow as he finally realizes what’s going on.

“His blood type is in high demand, so we don’t have enough bags. We’re trying to process type O negative donors, but by the time that we will have verified the blood, Herbert would have most likely already passed away by then. He lost a lot of blood during the accident...”

“You mean to tell me that a critically injured kid with such a ‘high demand’ blood type isn’t top priority for you?”

“We have so many patients here that--”

“Bullshit! What’s so hard about giving a little boy his God-given right to live? You make me sick to my goddamn stomach!”

Ash feels that outburst resonate in his soul, his anger matching that of the person who’s out there fighting for Herbert. He wishes that he can come back to life quicker so he can travel back in time and prevent Herbert from being a near casualty. If there’s a spell in the Necronomicon that allows him to take another person’s pain and feel it as his own for as long as that person lives, he wants to find it as soon as he’s back to where his story left off.

After taking one look at Herbert, however, he understands that he needed this. The look in the boy’s eyes is no longer panicked and focused on the ceiling, but determined and facing the window. Sullen, but nevertheless determined. It’s as if Ash can see the seeds of Herbert’s characteristic goal germinate right before him. He feels his intent to overcome his pain, his fear and perhaps something more.

Ash sees a bright light engulf everything around him, including himself. As he leaves his inner realm, he’s convinced that he just witnessed the end of Herbert’s childhood.

* * *

Ash slowly adapts to the new environment he’s in. Rocks cover a bit of the periwinkle sky as he hears the faint sound of crickets. He feels the pressure of Herbert’s slumped body on his chest. Wanting to touch him again and recognize that he’s back in the world of the living, he reaches for his head when a raspy voice stops him.

**“Ashley. You’re alive...”**

“If you think anything’s gonna keep me down, then you still don’t know me well enough,” boasts Ash.

“I didn’t say anything...” **“He heard me? This has to be a side effect of the transfusion...”**

“Transfusion? You mean you injected me with your blood?”

Herbert’s haggard face softens. “I ran out of the serum when I tried to kill that creature. I figured that I’ve injected myself with it enough times that my body should be able to produce even a small amount... Don’t worry, I’m type O negative, so--”

The smaller man cuts himself off with a couple of coughs, causing Ash to hold him closer with his less deadly arm.

**“Save your breath, buddy. You should rest up.”**

**“But we need to plan--”**

**“Relax, Herb. Just rest. I’ll stay here with you, okay?”**

Ash places a soft kiss on Herbert’s forehead, causing the scientist to loosen up. His hand slides up Herbert’s neck and rests there, a finger lethargically caressing his earlobe.

**“Now that you’re technically part of me, I’ll be even more goddamned if I let anything happen to you.”**

He too opts to forget about the world around him for the time being.


End file.
